


100-1

by novakid



Series: Heart Swells [2]
Category: DCU, The Flash (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Post-Countdown, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romantic or platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26830210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novakid/pseuds/novakid
Summary: these walls won't talk back.
Relationships: James Jesse & Hartley Rathaway, James Jesse/Hartley Rathaway
Series: Heart Swells [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955152
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	100-1

it was funny, he thought. karma or irony or whatever it was; hartley and james used to joke about not being able to wait until they were finally separated.

the first few weeks after hartley lost james, survived the crisis, and learned that he has a giant evil math equation inside of him, he couldn't bear to be alone. 

after the crisis, he finds a place to squat in gotham for a while. his hearing allows him to eavesdrop on the occupants living in the other rooms of the building. he hears fights and plans and soft evening conversations. he hears cars and animals and people rushing to get to their destinations. he hears televisions and radios, mostly the news and footage of people grateful to have survived with their lives and their families.

hartley spends a lot of time sitting on the bed and just listening for sounds other than his own. often times he is looking down at his bare wrist where his cuff used to be. the skin is smooth and paler than the rest of his arm. after being restrained for almost a year, it's gotten stiff and hard to move. 

sometimes when he lets his mind wander, he can still feel the cuff. sometimes his eyes travel up to where he imagines the chain would lead. sometimes, in hartley's weaker moments, he still expects to see james at the other end of his imaginary cuff. 

his cocksure smile is present in his mind's eye, but it's not actually there. not anymore.

_hartley had no time to grieve after james died saving him. immediately after turning him over and finding two gruesome bullet holes in his friend, the countdown on their cuffs went off and he couldn't think about anything else but survival. at first, hartley figured he could handle it on his own because he had done nothing but run for his life the past few months. the only problem was that the whole time he spent running, he was running with james by his side. he couldn't do it alone. he couldn't keep running alone. the thought of being alone was so frightening and maybe that's why hartley went through the trouble of dragging james through the desert with him, long after he was dead._

when his mind wanders to dark thoughts like those, he shakes back into reality as a sobbing mess. he can't keep letting his mind drift to that horrible place. 

_"no! not him! not now!"_

hartley shakes his head and slaps his face with both of his hands. enough of that.

_how long did you watch me rot?_

**stop it.**

he knows that he needs sleep. if he could just get some fucking sleep, maybe the memories of james' decaying body would leave him. maybe he'd find some goddamn peace.

but he can't. 

sleeping is impossible. hartley grew so accustomed to falling asleep to another person's breathing and heartbeat despite all his usual troubles with being kept up. it became a comforting white noise to him though. a steady thrumming that lulled him to sleep.

now hartley craves it. he craves something other than horns honking and people shouting. he's surrounded by strangers on all sides when all he wants is one single thing. one friend to keep him safe.

james jesse.

god, he hadn't even given james a funeral. 

he had no time when he still had the cuff on, not with the counter numbering hartley's last days until it blew him to bits. he was planning to bury his last remains; the hand that he desperately tried to keep safe with him. and _lost._ does one stupid song count for anything, besides being melodramatic?

"i'm sorry i keep messing everything up."

silence.

"please, james."

silence.

"say something, please."

silence.

hartley is alone in this room. he feels as if it is going to eat him alive. 

he wishes it would.

hartley recalls growing up in a big empty house with his distant parents. he looks back on all the desperate calls to his unattentive ex-boyfriends. and he remembers all the times when he felt like an outcast among outcasts; how even if the rogues were family, hartley never felt like he truly belonged.

recounts all of those memories. everything he felt in each of them.

he was never as alone as he was when he lost james jesse.

never quite as unfunny, either.

_you’re right. i’m the one who came up with all the punchlines._

“go to sleep, james.”

silence.

hartley looks out the window, feeling melancholy wash over him. the sun is rising and it decorates the sky with oranges and pinks. james would have called it stupid and pointless while still not taking his eyes off the sight.

another day is here, and it still hasn’t made a difference.

“will it ever get easier, james?”

silence.

“will i ever feel better?"

silence.

hartley lays his head down and closes his eyes, determined to give sleep another chance. he hugs his pillow and shivers when it doesn't offer any warmth. birds outside sing their morning song, and hartley pretends it’s his dead friend whistling to him.

“i’m sorry, james. thank you.”

he falls asleep while waiting for a response. 

**Author's Note:**

> [heart swells / 100-1 by los campesinos](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJ5ZMEvhkmk)  
> (lmk if there are any grammatical errors)


End file.
